Mother Knows Best
by TribalVipe
Summary: Lucia lays down some knowledge, forcing Rafael to acknowledge feelings for a certain Lieutenant he thought buried and forgotten. One-shot.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: As I sit down to work on the next chapters of the few fics I have going, an idea pops into my head and I just can't NOT write it. Ugh...my priorities are seriously messed up at this point. Anyway, this is a little look into Rafael Barba and the feelings he refuses to acknowledge. I was thinking of making this a two-shot, but that's up in the air for right now. Let me know what you think!

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If there was one person Lucia Barba knew better than herself, it was her son.

Of course, part of this was because he was her baby. Her only child. The love of her life, in this world and the next.

The sacrifices she made (with no help from her late husband) to ensure he had clothes on his back, food in his mouth and a roof over his head, had all been worth it. Working two jobs to pay the rent while watching after a drunk and a little boy with a smart mouth was no easy feat, but they made it through just fine.

Rafael had a strong personality. He was extremely intelligent, using it as a weapon of defense when he was growing up on the mean streets of the _barrio_ they lived in for 18 years. He'd also been very studious, always with his nose shoved in a book and constantly doing homework for the honors classes he signed up for during high school.

Aside from school, he had a mouth that tended to get him into trouble and a pride that wouldn't allow him to back down from a fight, whether that be during school or under their own roof. Unfortunately, this lead to a few bloody noses and black eyes, but he always shrugged off the pain to save some face, even in front of her.

Her son was a strong individual in general, not easily broken. Even during that horrible break-up with what's-her-name during his time in law school. He refused to lose focus and let his education suffer just because of a broken heart. Instead, he buried the hurt and pain like he did everything else and moved on with life, eventually getting over it entirely and reassuring her that he was just fine.

But she never thought he was fine after that.

Rafael had been such an optimistic kid growing up, always dreaming of making a difference in the world and living a good life with a good career. He'd wake up, excited to start the day, always intending to make it better than the last. It always made her smile, despite what might have gone on the night before or if she was in for a long day of work. That beaming smile could always give her the strength to get up and get moving.

When he came home from college, finally after four solid years of non-stop working, he didn't have the same optimistic smile he wore every day before he left her for Harvard. Instead, he had a permanent frown, tired eyes and a cynical outlook on the world around him.

What ensued was nearly 25 years of her son tirelessly working to build a reputation in the world of law. Fancy suits, perfect hair and an impenetrable mask on his face. He'd grown insecure in his years during college. She suspected him being a scholarship kid didn't help him to fit in with his peers and it was clear to see that he trying to make up for that during his adult years.

Fortunately, despite the drastic changes he'd made in his life to fit the profile of a high-powered New York City lawyer, it never changed their Saturday night dinner tradition, which she established right after he'd bought his first apartment. She couldn't bear the thought of not seeing him at least once a week, knowing full well he was going to continue down the path of being a workaholic with little to no time on his hands for personal matters.

It was a tradition unbroken (except for a brief time they didn't speak after her mamí passed), even after all these years. She'd cook dinner and dessert, whatever he wanted that night, and he'd always show up at 6 p.m. on the dot with an appetite and a week's full of frustration ready to be unloaded.

She found it amusing that he chose to vent to her, even though she didn't know half of what he was talking about and just nodded, giving him her full attention. Usually, it was always about work. Trials and defense attorneys that were getting on his nerves, witnesses reversing on the stand (whatever that meant) …regular run of the mill things he brought up every Saturday.

There was also something else he brought up every time and by something she meant someone. A certain Lieutenant of the Special Victims Unit he worked with closely. They met briefly before her mother passed and she brazenly told the woman about driving her son crazy.

He never not had something to say about her. Whether it be praise, annoyance or simply a retelling of a story he told prior. Her son was being completely obvious in the way he spoke, but she suspected he had no damn idea and that was typical Rafael.

"…and I clearly said no but she just doesn't back down. So, I go to the judge and basically have to kiss his ass in order to get this warrant. Long story short, Liv doesn't take no for answer, especially from me."

Lucia nodded, smiling as she twirled some noodles around her fork and watched her son getting seconds from the pot on the stove. He'd been going on for close to an hour about the Lieutenant and she couldn't have been happier.

Well, if he would realize that he was in love with the woman he constantly talked about then that would make her twice as happy.

But alas, her son had a thick skull and was stubborn to a fault. If he realized it, he wouldn't go through with anything. He'd bury those feelings (like he did everything else he didn't have time nor want to deal with) and move on with life, never settling down and giving her any grandchildren.

Did he know how embarrassing it was that she had no pictures of grandchildren to show when her and her old gang from high school got together every other month for brunch? 47! He was 47 and had the audacity to make her wait.

"Do you want more bread, mami?"

"No, honey, I'm fine."

Rafael walked back to the table, piece of bread hanging out of his mouth and another heaping plate in his hands.

Lucia had to wonder if any of his colleagues had ever seen this side of her son. The side of Rafael Barba that could down three plates of spaghetti and still have room for dessert later. How many people knew he loved horror films and had classic movie posters loitering the office in his apartment? Or the fact that he had a serious infatuation with cinnamon flavored anything and talked in his sleep?

Sometimes, it made her incredibly sad that she was the only person who knew these things about him. She didn't want to admit that she gave up hope for her boy ever finding anyone. He was one of the busiest people she could think of, and while it made her happy that he was doing something he truly loved and making a difference in the lives of victims, he needed breaks and relaxation in between.

Honestly, she was afraid he was going to work himself to death one of these days.

"Anyway, tell me about this guy you're seeing tomorrow? Name. Birthday. Occupation. Social security number for a background check."

Lucia rolled her eyes, knowing he was kidding but actually kind of serious.

"Who's the parent, here?"

"Who's the concerned son that doesn't want his mother getting in to trouble, here?"

"Trouble? This coming from the person I had to pick up at the police station at 3 a.m. when he was fifteen for breaking into the high school and t. the principal's office."

"I was double dared, mom. You can't back down from a double dare," Rafael sighed and shoved a fork full of food into his mouth, knowing it was a bullshit excuse but loving the fact it annoyed her to no end.

"You're lucky I was able to flirt your way out of being expelled and being charged."

Rafael grimaced, wanting to skip over the conversation and forget all about his teenage years. That was a dark spot that could drift through a black hole and never return for all he cared.

"Don't remind me."

"Anyway, I'm more interested in hearing about Ms. Benson. It is Ms., right?"

"Yeah," Rafael furrowed his brow, "What about her?"

"Well, does she know you're in love with her?"

He was lucky he didn't spit the soda he's just poured into his mouth, or choke on it as he quickly swallowed it down so he could sputter and look at his mom like she was mad.

Lucia had to bite back a giggle, taking a neatly wrapped bite of noodles. Her eyes narrowed in on a small smudge of sauce on his dress shirt and she made a mental note for later so she could wash it out for him.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Language," she admonished, pointing a finger as he rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Hell isn't a curse word."

"It is in my house."

"Mom."

"What?"

Her son looked ready to rip his hair out and she wanted to ask what the big deal was. Her son couldn't be that dense. He had to realize that he was head over heels, right?

…right?

One could only hope.

"Why would you say something like that?"

"What, that you're in love with Lieutenant Benson? Why wouldn't I say that? I'm only speaking the truth."

Rafael stuttered, looking utterly confused, shocked and like his biggest, deepest secret had just been exposed to a room full of people and not just her. She sipped at her glass of water and observed every emotion pass over his handsome face, the slow realization dawning and sparkling in his green eyes.

It was like a light bulb suddenly ignited over his head, his eyebrows shooting up and a deep breath escaping past his lips as he made eye contact with her. Lucia nodded, trying not to look too smug at his baffled look.

Ok, he could be that dense, but she wouldn't hold that against him. He was a smart man, but not when it came to his own feelings.

"I…I don't know…," he sputtered and sat back in his chair. Lucia eyed him as she took another bite of her spaghetti, unable to hold back the excited grin on her face.

"Honey, if you took a break occasionally, you probably would have realized this before I ever brought it up."

Lucia reached for a lone piece of bread on the edge of his plate and tore of a piece, still watching his face intently. He was going through such a vast range of emotions, unhidden in the comfort of her home and only for her eyes to see. She suspected he didn't do this in his everyday life, with the usual suspects surrounding him.

"I…," he trailed but shook his head, looking at his plate of food like it held all the answers to questions he was probably asking himself at that very moment. Lucia put down her fork and grabbed for her drink.

"Rafi, this honestly can't be such a shock. I'm sure you buried your feelings for her a long time ago just like you do with everything else. Really, it's unhealthy to do that sweetheart. I think there's a study about it, if I remember correctly. Oh, shoot, I wish I could remember the name of that magazine."

Rafael cut of her off, waving his hands wildly frantically to get her to stop rambling for a moment.

"Mamí…how?"

It was an odd question, not alluding to anything, but she knew what he was asking her and it made her roll her eyes so hard she saw spots. She stood up from the table and grabbed her plate, leaving his after he grabbed it away from her and shoved some garlic toast in his mouth.

"You're forgetting I carried you for 9 months and raised you for 18 years, sweetie. I know you better than you know yourself."

He chewed thoughtfully, leg bouncing anxiously underneath the table. She quickly rinsed off her plate and shoved it in the dishwasher before she moved to the still steaming, freshly baked cinnamon rolls she made. He didn't say anything the entire time she fixed them coffee and plated dessert. She knew he was probably having an internal crisis, trying to think of what he was going to say before he opened his mouth again.

"You done having a break down?"

Rafael sent her a half-hearted glare and grabbed the cup of coffee she offered him.

"I'm not having a break down. I was just thinking about awkward I'm going to be around her now. Did you have to bring this topic up? Because you might have just ruined a really great professional relationship."

"Oh, blaming me for your inability to acknowledge your feelings?"

She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, daring him to blame her for anything. He wisely kept his mouth shut, eyeing the cinnamon rolls in front of him but he didn't take a bite.

"It's that inability that's kept me from losing focus," he rubbed at his eyes and rested his elbows on the table.

"Losing focus from what? You're job? At this point, I don't think anything could make you lose focus," she countered. She took a bite of the warm rolls and almost moaned in satisfaction. She outdid herself this time. Just the right amount of icing and-

"Mom…I don't have time to deal with feelings. I'm too busy dealing with everyone else's. Mine take a backseat and I'm fine with that."

That's what worried her.

"I'm not fine with that, but what do I know, I'm just your mother."

She tried not laugh when groaned and threw his head back dramatically, staring up at the ceiling and running a hand through his gelled hair, effectively messing it up.

"You don't understand. I've known Liv for a couple years now and I may have…become infatuated with her…attracted to her, but it wouldn't ever work out. We're too busy. She has a son and a team to look after and I have all these cases getting ready to go to trial."

"That's exactly why you two would be perfect for each other."

Rafael scoffed at the idea but she kept speaking, not wanting him to blow her off just yet.

"You two work the same cases, deal with the same issues. You know what her job entails and she knows what your job deals with. It sounds like you two spend a lot of your working hours together, not to mention those bar outings and work dinners you have. What's the big hold up here, son?"

Rafael shook his head, "She probably doesn't feel the same way. Why would she? Look at me, I'm a mess."

Lucia kicked him under the table, raising an eyebrow in another warning. That look scared him as a child, sending him running off to his room or out to the park down the street with his friends.

"You're not a mess, Rafael. And why wouldn't she feel the same way about you? You're handsome, you're funny, you're a hard worker and you don't back down from a challenge!"

"I'm a workaholic with too much pride and the beginnings of a drinking problem."

Lucia sighed and leaned forward, grabbing his hands forcing him to hold hers. He glanced up at her, lips pursed like he was ready to refute anything that she was going to say. That was her son. Always the fighter.

"You are so much more than that. If this woman has eyes and a brain in her head, then she knows that, too."

They were quiet for a good two minutes this time, leaving her to rub her thumbs across his knuckles while his eyes moved erratically across the table. Finally, he sighed and grumbled under his breath.

"You're right," he said, albeit reluctantly.

"I know I am."

That earned her a little smirk but it was gone in seconds. She examined the top of his head since that was the only thing she could see. She decided to ask him a question, thinking he was ready to answer it honestly.

"Do you love her?"

He nodded, but still didn't look her.

"Then why don't you tell her?"

"What if she turns me down?"

He was uncharacteristically quiet, clutching her hands like they were his life line. Few times did she ever see her son like this and it called to a deep feeling of protectiveness in her chest. How she wished she could take away all his insecurities and painful memories that kept him from opportunities like this. The thought that he was afraid of putting himself out there emotionally hurt her heart.

But she wouldn't let him back down. She had a feeling like this fretting was all for naught, anyhow.

"Honey…you never know if you don't try. What happens if you keep this buried? She rides off into the sunset with another man, thinking she's found the best she's going to get and you spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been? I don't want you to regret your life, Rafi. I want you to live it to the fullest and if that means risking a professional relationship for the sake of love, then you should do it. Go tell her you love her."

There was a moment of silence between them before he got up and pulled her into a hug.

"You're an amazing mom," he whispered, squeezing her tighter and almost lifting her off her feet. She laughed and patted the back of his head, feeling warm at his words.

"You'll always be my baby," she whispered back, pressing a kiss to his temple as she pulled back and patted his face, "Now go get her!"

Rafael stood there for a second, the nervousness he was feeling kept him rigid. She had to physically push him towards the door, reminding him there was no more running from his feelings. She helped him shrug his suit jacket back on and waited for him to slip his shoes on.

"Should I pick up some flowers or wine or something?"

"Maybe some wine. She doesn't seem like the flower type."

"Ok," he nodded and turned to the door, opening it up but turned around and looked worried as he glanced at the clock on the living room wall, "But do you think it's too late? It's almost 7:45. Noah's bed time is eight and she may already be getting ready for bed- "

"Rafael, you really don't want to know what I'm going to do if you don't leave within the next five seconds. Get. Out."

Rafael gulped and nodded, giving her a quick hug and kiss before he finally left.

"Love you! Good luck!"

Lucia chuckled and watched him disappear around the corner to the stairwell before she shut the door with a smirk. A stray thought ran across her mind and she quickly went to the kitchen to grab a small, plastic bag. She walked back out to the kitchen table and bagged two big cinnamon rolls just as there was a knock on her door.

She didn't bother to look through the peep hole, knowing who it was and what he wanted. When she opened the door, her son barely had to greet before she shoved the bag in his hands. He smiled and bid her goodbye and goodnight again, promising to call her tomorrow.

With her job finished, she set about cleaning up and putting away leftovers so she could get some beauty sleep. She had a date tomorrow, after all.

Hopefully, her son did too.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Ok, so this is part two and the conclusion to part one! I hope you guys like it. I think it's too wordy and super long, but that's just what happened. It gets a little racy at the end for a T rating, but I tried to keep it tame. Enjoy!

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The delicious cinnamon rolls his mother made didn't quell the anxiety and nervousness bubbling in his stomach the entire way there.

He took his mom's advice and picked up a bottle of Liv's favorite wine, foregoing the flowers but picking up a little something sweet for Noah. He knew the boy had a sweet tooth, much like himself, and Liv had to watch his candy intake lest he get cavities. He knew from experience that cavities were hell to go through.

Rafael came to a stop outside of Liv's apartment building, looking up and easily spotting the window of her home, lit up with a soft glow. More than likely, she wouldn't be going to bed just yet. Earlier that morning, she mentioned working late and finishing up some paperwork so she could enjoy her Sunday off with Noah, and he hoped she wouldn't mind his sudden dropping by.

Maybe he should have called or sent her a text to ask her?

Yeah, he probably should have.

Ugh, why was he even doing this?

Why was he listening to his mom? She meant well, he knew that, but he wasn't fully prepared to face these things head on. He did his best to forget about them for a reason, and realizing he was in love with her right in the middle of his spaghetti dinner wasn't what he needed right now.

They were all so busy. In fact, he was so damn busy, on the walk here he'd been going through every file on his desk, memorizing details of each crime scene in a bizarre way to take his mind off what he was about to do.

He should probably take a vacation soon if crime scene details were something that could calm him down. He knew his mom's concerns about him working too much and not having any relaxation time in between workloads weren't unfounded. The stress had him buckling to bottles of scotch and a smoking habit he quit years ago and he knew neither were good for him.

Oddly and unsurprisingly though, being around Liv didn't heighten his stress levels like being around the other detectives did. Sometimes, all he wanted to do was snap on them, but a small nod or a calming gesture from her were all it took for him to realize snapping wasn't worth it.

It was like she had this power over him and he loved it as much as he hated it.

Rafael switched hands with the wine bottle, wiping the sweat off the neck on his expensive suit jacket, not caring if it left behind a mark or stain. He had bigger things to worry about other than his clothing.

Like what he was going to say when he got up there.

What was he going to do when she opened the door and was completely annoyed or mad about the fact that he was intruding on her Saturday night? That would be a sure-fire way to send him home with his tail between his legs, forcing him to completely throw out the little spark of confidence his mom tried so hard to instill in him just thirty minutes before.

He appreciated the fact that he thought him mom was a total catch, but he didn't feel that way about himself. There were so many things wrong with him, so much baggage he carried around and Liv didn't need that in her life. She needed someone who was stronger than him, both physically and emotionally. She needed someone who was better with kids than he was and who knew how to put down the work and get some sleep.

Sighing, he deflated a little, tapping the bottle of wine against his leg in contemplation.

He could go up there and spill his guts to her. Confess his feelings and make an utter fool out of himself when she rejected him flat out. Or, he could go home and drink this entire bottle of wine, pass out and have a killer hangover for the rest of the day tomorrow while he attempted to get some work done.

Neither sounded promising, but he was definitely leaning more towards the hangover. He knew the sting of a headache would lessen and eventually go away completely. Rejection wouldn't. It would hang over his head like a storm cloud for a long time because he really, truly felt something for her and damn it all.

He reached into his pocket at the vibration from his phone and quickly opened a text message from his mother saying:

 _Quit standing outside of the building and go up there!_

Rafael looked around and down the street, double checking the passersby for anyone that resembled his mother even remotely. He had no doubt she would have followed him and dragged him by the ear all the way up to her floor, but he knew she wasn't that crazy.

He hoped she wasn't.

He quickly sent a text back, basically telling her he would and good night again, hopefully getting her to stop prying so much. She brought a lot of feelings out during dinner he'd rather she didn't and now he was stuck dealing with them thanks to her.

After a few more moments of indecision, Rafael walked up to the buzzer and buzzed her apartment, knowing the combination by heart. Her voice filtered through the intercom, asking who it was and he choked out his name in a weird way, cringing at himself. She sounded confused as she greeted him and buzzed him in.

He quickly made his way in, knowing the doors were on timers and shuffled to an elevator. It was empty, surprisingly, for eight o'clock on a Saturday, but he supposed everyone was already heading out to the bars or on dates around the city. He only realized he looked like he was about to go on one a few seconds later when adjusted the wine bottle in his hand.

The elevator ride was quick and deposited him on her floor. It was a quick walk to her front door, and he noticed it cracked open invitingly. He hesitated, trying to quell his nervous twitching and anxiety rising like bile in his throat.

This was it. This was the moment of truth. He was about to Olivia Benson he was in love with her and face the biggest rejection his lifetime. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He couldn't believe he let his own mother talk him into this.

Shit.

The door to her apartment suddenly opened and took a step back as she appeared. She was dressed way more casually than he'd ever seen her and his heart was about to burst from just the sight of her. She wore an old, ratty NYPD shirt with leggings, no socks and her reading glasses shoved up into her hair with no makeup.

God, he thought she was beautiful in her standard work uniform, but this was whole different level of beautiful.

"Hey, what brings you here?"

He casually shrugged his shoulder, being careful that his eyes didn't roam no matter how badly they wanted to. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. So, he cleared his throat and waved the bottle around.

"I was in the neighborhood…thought I would top by and see if you wanted a drink?"

Liv looked skeptical, probably noticing the hesitance in his voice and the way he was trying to make himself seem casual. She raised a brow but smiled and waved him in, stepping aside and patting him on the back as he passed through the threshold.

He stopped only a few steps into the apartment, spotting a slumbering Noah under a blanket with cartoons playing on the television in front of him. He looked adorable with his mouth hanging open and his legs tucked under him, a toy dinosaur clutched in his hand.

"I was just about to put him in his room. Make yourself comfortable," she said quietly and walked past him. He watched as Liv bent down to pick up the boy, securing him in her arms and nodding towards the open couch before walking towards a short hall where the bedrooms were.

He'd been here before, mostly for business when their usual meeting place was too busy to discuss work. They'd camped out on her couch plenty of times, going over the details of whatever case they were dissecting and taking to trial at that moment, so he didn't feel so out of place in there.

He sat and gently placed the bottle of wine on the coffee table next to a few toy cars, being careful not to make any loud noises. He enjoyed seeing and spending time with Noah, but he needed this to be a serious conversation between them without interruption.

Rafael sat there for ten nerve wracking minutes until she reappeared and quickly slid into the kitchen, opening a cabinet and grabbing two glasses before heading back to the couch where he sat.

"Sorry, he woke up and wanted me to sing to him," she said as she took the seat next to him, holding two wine glasses in her hands. He diligently poured them two cups, although he wished he had something stronger. He was going to need some liquid courage to get through this conversation and wine just didn't cut it.

"Oh, so that's why your neighbor's cat was hissing like crazy," he joked but his words had a nervous undertone. He hoped she didn't notice he was trying to stall anything. She was going to want to know why he was there or why he used the lame excuse he did when she opened the door.

Liv slapped his arm and scoffed, "Like you can sing."

He laughed a little, not bothering to respond and proceeded to slam the glass down in three gulps. He took a deep breath and grabbed for the bottle again, pouring another good amount in his glass.

"Uh…," Rafael looked over to see Liv with her glass halfway to her lips, looking a little taken aback by his action.

"Sorry…just a little nervous," he replied sheepishly, tearing his gaze away from hers and staring down at the floor. He swirled his glass around, trying to think of what he was going to say next. There was no easy way to start a conversation like that and he wished his mother had, at least, given him a suggestion.

Maybe he could call her really quick?

"Nervous about what? Is everything ok?"

He could hear the concern in her voice and he quickly dispelled the thought that anything had gone wrong at all. The last thing he needed was for her to get worried and pull some lame excuse out of him. He couldn't back out of this. He'd made a commitment the moment he took a seat on her couch.

"You're acting strange. Are you sure nothing happened?"

"Just my mother's big mouth," he said under his breath but she heard him perfectly. He glanced over at her again and she was giving him 'the look'. It was a look she gave a suspect under interrogation who was _this_ close to confessing; it was a cross between scrutiny and compassion with a hint of a threat thrown in the mix. She used it on her own detectives and him sometimes, although he didn't think she did it intentionally.

Or maybe she did, because he knew for a fact he got on her nerves sometimes, like she did him.

"I wasn't in the neighborhood," he started after a long minute of complete silence, "I was at my mother's house having dinner before I came here."

He brought the glass up to his lips again and gulped the whole thing up in under 15 seconds. He sighed and enjoyed the warmness that was beginning to form in his belly.

"Slow down, tiger," Liv joked and grabbed the glass out of his hand, placing it on the coffee table and dropped hers next to it. She curled her legs under her body and lounged against the couch, getting comfortable. Rafael leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, bringing his clasped hands to cover his mouth.

"Barba, you're kind of freaking me out here. Is there something wrong with you mom?"

"Yeah," he forced a chuckle, "She's nosy and too observant."

Liv looked beyond confused and he understood why. He still hadn't given her an exact answer to why he was sitting on her couch yet and she was looking like she was going to start forcing it out of him. He cleared his throat and shifted, turning his body towards hers. He reached out with shaky hands and grabbed one of hers, making her jump and tense a little but she didn't pull it back.

She relaxed a moment later, thankfully.

"I have something to tell you…and it's probably coming out of left field for you and honestly it did for me, years ago. I don't really know when it happened, but I know that I tried to suppress it and push it away because that's what I do when I'm not equipped to deal with things on an emotional level."

The entire time he'd been talking, he was staring at their clasped hands. When he finally locked gazes with hers, she looked a little struck and still confused. The words circulating in his mind weren't connecting and forming coherent sentences and what he just said probably didn't make a damn bit of sense either.

"What are you trying to say," Liv asked breathlessly, hand curling around his and her thumb rubbing gently circles on his knuckles. The action was soothing, but did little to quell the anxiety coursing through his veins.

"I'm trying to say…I'm trying to tell you that I- "

The sudden ringtone from Liv's pocket cut him off and she slowly pulled her hand from his, apologizing as she pulled it out to look at the name on her screen.

"It's Amanda. Give just a minute, I'll be back."

She stood and answered her phone, moving from the couch and towards the kitchen. Rafael hung his head and ran his hands over his face. Of course, he'd get cut off as soon as he was about to tell her.

He listened to her talk quietly, keeping her voice low just in case she woke Noah. He knew they were talking about the current case they were working on, but all he could focus on was the third glass of wine he was pouring himself. At this rate, he was going to end up hungover the next morning and puking his guts out the entire day.

Although, he wasn't feeling as anxious about it as he had before. She didn't pull back or seem uncomfortable when he grabbed her hand and that gave him the smallest bit of hope. He wondered if he was wasting his time with words. They were both people of action. Show them rather than tell them. Words were easily jumbled if you didn't know how to speak and he truly wasn't a master at it in his personal life. In the court room, he could slay a jury with his careful thought out speeches. Here, sitting on this couch and trying to confess his feelings? He was only slaying his self-esteem.

Maybe, all this talking wasn't the way to go. Maybe Liv would only fully understand what he was trying to tell her with actions? It was worth a shot. Worst case scenario she'd kick him out and refuse to ever talk about this night ever again. Best case? He didn't even want to get his hopes up with that one.

He gulped down another glass of wine quickly, hearing Liv coming back into living room and apologizing once more.

"Got another vic for you," she sighed and sat down next to him, way closer than she had been before and her nearness was really messing with his decision-making process, "I suspect we'll both be needed at the precinct in the morning if you're up for working on a Sunday."

"Wouldn't be my first time," he replied absent-mindedly, feeling the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. Liv chuckled and was still for a second. She reached for one of his hands and pulled it towards her, clasping it between both of hers and giving him a sweet smile.

"Now…what were you trying to tell me before?"

Rafael gulped and locked eyes, noticing that their faces were incredibly close now. Far closer than they had ever been before and proximity was threatening to make his brain malfunction.

"Uh…," he said dumbly, eyes bouncing back and forth between her eyes and her lips, unsure of where he should be looking. Liv waited patiently, seeming to understand he was in the middle of an internal crisis in his head. She spoke softly to him, patting his hand.

"Rafael, you know you can tell me anything."

"I know," he responded, "But this is different."

"How?"

He wanted to laugh at that question but she wouldn't understand why, so he didn't. Instead, he tried to force out the words in his throat, stuck to the walls like glue. He was beginning to grow frustrated.

"I…I…," Rafael growled angrily and pulled his hand away from hers, "Screw this."

The only way she was going to know what he was trying to convey was going to have to be in a different form other than words. He reached up with both of his hands and gripped her cheeks, leaning forward bravely.

The first hesitant press of his lips against hers was the most terrifying moment of his life. This was a moment in time that was going to define the rest of the relationship, whether that be good or bad. He knew he was playing with fire by doing this, but it was too late now. He had plenty of chances to back out before and he hadn't and there was something to that. There was a reason why he didn't. He just didn't know what that was.

Her lips were pliant and unmoving against his and she was a little too tense for his liking. For a heart stopping second, he thought this wasn't something that she wanted. He hadn't bothered asking if he could kiss her. He just went in for the kill and didn't even consider that she didn't want to be kissed. That line of thinking was immediately shut down when she finally did make a move.

She was kissing him back, sliding her fingers through the hair on the back of his head to pull him closer to her, lips pressing harder and growing more passionate by the second. He felt a wave of euphoria sweep over him and all the anxiety he felt upon his arrival and through the stuttered conversation just minutes before, dispersed into thin air around them.

"Finally," she murmured as they pulled apart, their breath mingling between their lips. Rafael furrowed his brow, letting his hand travel from her face to her neck and down to her hip. She shivered at the action and gave him another kiss, lasting very shortly.

"I was afraid I was going to have to hit you over the head with something."

He snorted, squeezing her hip and agreeing with her half-heartedly. He would have come to terms with his feelings on his own time and without his mother. Possibly.

"How did you know?"

"Call it intuition. Now, do you like eggs?"

Rafael was confused and he nodded, not seeing where she was going with this line of questioning but his eyes were focused on her lips, his own begging to join with them again. Liv took her hand from his hair and let it wonder down his neck until it wrapped around his loose tie. She pulled him close to her bumped their noses together.

"Good," she kissed him hotly, running her tongue along his bottom lip, "Because you'll be making me and Noah an omelet in the morning."

There was no more talking for a good few hours.

 **The Next Morning…**

Rafael woke up with a pair of lips nipping at his neck and if that wasn't the best way to wake up, he didn't know what was. He sleepily glanced at the bedside clock and smiled, realizing there would be no sleeping in today like on his usual Sundays.

"Good morning," Liv whispered, pressing her bare body into his side. The wave of euphoria he felt the night before hadn't left his body and probably wouldn't for a good long while. When they were both spent and cuddling in the afterglow of their activities, they'd talked about what the future held for them and a relationship amidst their careers, leaving them with only three hours of sleep.

But it would be worth it after he had some coffee.

"Do we have to go in to the precinct?"

She laughed at his pouty expression and kissed his lips, her fingers dancing through the hair on his chest and playing with the gold crucifix around his neck.

"Yeah, but only for a few hours. Then we can go get lunch and come back here and spend the rest of the day with Noah watching movies."

"Oh? You just have my whole day planned? What if I already have prior arrangements?"

"Do you?"

"…no."

"That's what I thought."

They shared the next few minutes in an intimate silence, sharing sweet kisses and enjoying the silence of the early Sunday morning hours. The city seemed still outside of her apartment which was rare for the city they lived in.

The silence was broken by the rumbling of his stomach. Liv laughed into his shoulder and trailed kisses up his neck. His eyes drifted closed at the sensation.

"Guess I should get on making those omelets," he mumbled into her hair. She hummed and pulled away from him, turning over to sit up and stretch. He watched as she crawled out of the bed and walked to her bathroom, not bothering to grab anything to cover her up. She stood in the doorway and glanced over her shoulder, enjoying the way he was eyeing her from the usually vacant side of her bed.

"I'm going to take a shower before Noah wakes up. He likes toast with his eggs," she winked at him and shut the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He waited until he heard the sounds of a shower head running to get up and search for his pants. He found them, along with his boxer briefs near the bedroom door and slipped them back on, intent on getting breakfast going. Mentally, he thanked his mom for teaching him the basics of cooking before he left off to college. It helped immensely back then and was proving to help in this situation.

Speaking of his mom…

He pulled out his cell phone from the suit jacket left draped over the couch last night and noticed no missed calls or texts. He opened his messaging app and smiled as he sent him mom a text message:

 _You were right, mom. Love you._

It wasn't until three hours later, when he and Liv were entering the precinct that he received a text back. He just shook his head when Liv asked him what he thought was so funny.

 _Of course I was. Mother knows best ;)_


End file.
